^Ayer^
TOKEN OF A NATION’S SORROW.
ADDRESSES
IN THE
CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES,
AND
FUNERAL SOLEMNITIES
ON THE
DEATH OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
ADDRESSES
IN THE
CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES,
AND
FUNERAL SOLEMNITIES
ON THE
DEATH OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
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1N. Dearborn Boston.
JOHN QUINCY ADAMS,
6TH PRESIDENT OF THE U.S. OF AMERICA.
J. Q. Adams
BORN JULY 11TH 1767. DIED FEB. 25TH 1848.
JOHN QUINCY ADAMS,
6TH PRESIDENT OF THE U.S. OF AMERICA.
J. Q. Adams
BORN JULY 11TH 1767. DIED FEB. 25TH 1848.
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TOKEN OF A NATION’S SORROW.
ADDRESSES
IN THE
CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES,
AND
FUNERAL SOLEMNITIES
ON THE
DEATH OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS,
WHO
DIED IN THE CAPITOL AT WASHINGTON,
ON
WEDNESDAY EVENING, FEBRUARY 23, 1848.
WASHINGTON:
PRINTED BY J. AND G. S. GIDEON.
1848.
ADDRESSES
IN THE
CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES,
AND
FUNERAL SOLEMNITIES
ON THE
DEATH OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS,
WHO
DIED IN THE CAPITOL AT WASHINGTON,
ON
WEDNESDAY EVENING, FEBRUARY 23, 1848.
WASHINGTON:
PRINTED BY J. AND G. S. GIDEON.
1848.
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In The House of Representatives, United States,Monday, February 28, 1848.
Mr. Ashmun moved the following resolution, which was adopted:
Resolved, That the Committee of Arrangements be directed to cause to be published, in pamphlet
form, and in such manner as may seem to them appropriate, for the use of the House,
twenty thousand copies of the Addresses made by the Speaker and the Members of this
House, and of the Addresses made to the Senate, together with the discourse of the
Rev. Mr. Gurley, upon the occasion of the death of the Hon. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
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INTRODUCTION
The circumstances connected with the death of the venerable Representative from Massachusetts
were so peculiar, that we deem it proper to register them in this “Token of a nation’s
sorrow”—this frail tribute of respect to the memory of departed worth.
Though he had been quite feeble for the last year, Mr. ADAMS entered the Hall of the House of Representatives on Monday, the 21st of February,
in his usual health and spirits. When the House had been in session about an hour,
the yeas and nays being ordered on a question, he responded in a voice unusually clear,
and with more than ordinary emphasis. The painful scene that followed is thus described
with accuracy and feeling in the National Intelligencer of the next morning:
“Just after the yeas and nays were taken on a question, and the Speaker had risen
to put another question to the House, a sudden cry was heard on the let of the chair,
“Mr. Adams is dying!” Turning our eyes to the spot, we beheld the venerable man in the act of
falling over the left arm of his chair, while his right arm was extended, grasping
his desk for support. He would have dropped upon the floor had he not been caught
in the arms of the member sitting next to him. A great sensation was created in the
House; members from all quarters rushing from their seats and gathering round the
fallen statesman, who was immediately lifted into the area in front of the Clerk’s
table. The Speaker instantly suggested that some gentleman move an adjournment, which
being promptly done, the House adjourned. A sofa was brought, and Mr. ADAMS, in a state of perfect helplessness, though not of entire insensibility, was gently
laid upon it. The sofa was then taken up and borne out of the Hall into the Rotundo,
where it was set down, and
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the members of both Houses and strangers, who were fast crowding around, were with
some difficulty repressed, and an open space cleared in its immediate vicinity; but
a medical gentleman, a member of the House, (who was prompt, active, and self-possessed
throughout the whole painful scene,) advised that he be removed to the door of the
Rotundo opening on the east portico, where a fresh wind was blowing. This was done;
but the air being chilly and loaded with vapor, the sofa was, at the suggestion of
Mr. Winthrop, once more taken up and removed to the Speaker’s apartment, the doors of which were
forthwith closed to all but professional gentlemen and particular friends. While lying
in this apartment, Mr. Adams partially recovered the use of his speech and observed, in faltering accents, “This
is the end of earth;” but quickly added, “I am composed.” Members had by this time
reached Mr. A.’s abode with the melancholy intelligence, and, soon after, Mrs. Adams and his nephew and niece arrived, and made their way to the appalling scene. Mrs.
A. was deeply affected, and for some moments quite prostrated by the sight of her
husband, now insensible, the pallor of death upon his countenance, and those sad premonitories
fast making their appearance which fall with such a chill upon the heart.”
Soon after being taken to the Speaker’s room, Mr. Adams sank into a state of apparent insensibility, gradually growing weaker and weaker,
till on Wednesday evening, February 23d, at a quarter past 7 o’clock, he expired without
a struggle.
While he was lying in the Speaker’s room, all business was suspended in the Capitol.
On Tuesday morning, the House came together at the usual hour. The Speaker on taking
the chair announced, in a feeling manner, that his venerable colleague was still lingering
in a state of insensibility in the adjoining apartment; whereupon, the House in solemn
stillness immediately adjourned. The same thing occurred on the following morning.
The Senate also, and the Supreme Court, testified their grief by suspending all business.
Though the health of Mrs. Adams did not allow her remaining constantly with her husband, she has the consolation
of knowing that every
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attention was paid to him, and every service, professional and otherwise, was performed,
which could avert the calamity, or render his last hours comfortable and happy.
It is but justice to say, that all the members of Congress seemed desirous of testifying
their respect, and doing all in their power to relieve the distress of the venerable
sufferer. Among the physicians of the House, Dr. Fries, Dr. Edwards, Dr. Newell, Dr. Nes, Dr. Eckert and Dr. Jones deserve special notice. These gentlemen were among the first to rush to Mr. Adams’ aid, and did all that professional skill could do to arrest the disease in its first
stages. Dr. Thomas, Dr. Lindsly, and Dr. Fry of the city, were immediately sent for, and soon appearing in the room, were unremitting
in their endeavors to afford relief to their distinguished patient. The Chaplains
of Congress and Rev. Mr. Pyne of the city, were frequently in attendance, imparting the consolations of religion.
The Speaker and other members of the Massachusetts delegation paid every attention
to their venerable colleague, some of them being with him nearly every moment after
the fatal attack, and most of them at the time of his death. The officers of the House,
and even the little pages, seemed desirous of performing every act of kindness, in
token of their regard for their afflicted friend. But neither the skill of his physicians,
nor the kindness of his friends, nor the prayers and tears of his afflicted family,
could avert the stroke of death. The decree had gone forth, and the spirit left its
tenement of clay, to dwell, as we humbly trust, in that “house, not made with hand,
eternal in the heavens.”
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ADDRESSES IN CONGRESS
ON THE
ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE DEATH OF MR. ADAMS.
ON THE
ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE DEATH OF MR. ADAMS.
At the usual hour of meeting of the two Houses of Congress, on Thursday Feb. 24, a
full attendance of Members and crowded audiences attested the deep interest of the
occasion which called the two Houses to offer public testimonials of their profound
respect for the memory of the Hon. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, who breathed his last on the
preceding evening, and whose mortal remains yet lay within the walls of the Capitol.
In the House of Representatives, as soon as the House was called to order—
The Speaker (the Hon. Robert C. Winthrop) rose, and in a feeling and affecting manner addressed the House as follows:
Gentlemen of the House of Representatives of the United States:
It has been thought fit that the Chair should announce officially to the House, an
event already known to the members individually, and which has filled all our hearts
with sadness.
A seat on this floor has been vacated, towards which all eyes have been accustomed
to turn with no common interest.
A voice has been hushed forever in his Hall, to which all ears have been wont to listen
with profound reverence.
A venerable form has faded from our sight, around which we have daily clustered with
an affectionate regard.
A name has been stricken from the roll of the living statesmen of our land, which
has been associated, for more than half a century, with the highest civil service,
and the loftiest civil renown.
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On Monday, the 21st instant, John Quincy Adams sunk in his seat, in presence of us all, by a sudden illness, from which he never
recovered; and he died, in the Speaker’s room, at a quarter past seven o’clock last
evening, with the officers of the House and the delegation of his own Massachusetts
around him.
Whatever advanced age, long experience, great ability, vast learning, accumulated
public honors, a spotless private character, and a firm religious faith, could do,
to render any one an object of interest, respect, and admiration, they had done for
this distinguished person; and interest, respect, and admiration are but feeble terms
to express the feelings, with which the members of this House and the people of the
country have long regarded him.
After a life of eighty years, devoted from its earliest maturity to the public service,
he has at length gone to his rest. He has been privileged to die at his post; to fall
while in the discharge of his duties; to expire beneath the roof of the Capitol; and
to have his last scene associated forever, in history, with the birthday of that illustrious
Patriot, whose just discernment brought him first into the service of his country.
The close of such a life, under such circumstances, is not an event for unmingled
emotions. We cannot find it in our hearts to regret, that he has died as he has died.
He himself could have desired no other end. “This is the end of the earth,” were his
last words, uttered on the day on which he fell. But we might almost hear him exclaiming,
as he left us—in a language hardly less familiar to him than his native tongue—“Hoc est, nimirum, magis feliciter de vitâ migrare, quam mori.”
It is for others to suggest what honors shall be paid to his memory. No acts of ours
are necessary to his fame. But it may be due to ourselves and to the country, that
the national sense of his character and services should be fitly commemorated.
When the Speaker concluded—
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Mr. Hudson, of Massachusetts, rose and addressed the House as follows:
Mr. Speaker: I rise with no ordinary emotion to perform a painful duty, which has been assigned
me by my colleagues, growing out of an event which has recently occurred in the midst
of us—the announcement of which has just been made by the Chair. My late venerable
colleague is no more! A great and good man has fallen! He has been stricken down in
the midst of us, while in the discharge of his public duties. One whose public services
are coeval with the establishment of our Government; one who has come down to us from
past generations, and of whom it might almost be said that he was living in the midst
of posterity, an example to us and to those who come after us, has ceased from his
labors, and gone to his reward. The peculiar circumstances of his death are known
to every member of this House, and are calculated to make a deep and lasting impression.
They weigh so heavily upon my own mind and feelings, that I am almost inclined to
believe that silence is the most appropriate token of our grief, and the most suitable tribute to his
memory.
John Quincy Adams was born on the 11th day of July, 1767, in that part of Braintree, Massachusetts,
which was subsequently incorporated into a town by the name of Quincy, and hence was
in the eighty-first year of his age. In 1778, when he was but eleven years of age,
he accompanied his father, John Adams, to France, who was sent with Benjamin Franklin and Arthur Lee, as Commissioners to the Court of Versailles. After remaining in France about eighteen
months, during which time he applied himself closely to the study of the French and
Latin languages, he returned to his own country in August, 1779. In November of the
same year his father was again despatched to Europe for the discharge of diplomatic
services, and took his son John Quincy with him. At Paris he was put to school, and
when in 1780 John Adams removed to Holland, his son enjoyed the advantages of the
public school at Amsterdam, and afterwards of the University at Leyden. Francis Dana,
who accompanied John Adams as Secretary to the Embassy, received in
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1781 the appointment of minister plenipotentiary to Russia, and took John Quincy Adams,
then fourteen years of age, with him as his private secretary. Here he remained till
October, 1782, when he left Mr. Dana at St. Petersburg, and returned through Sweden,
Denmark, Hamburg, and Bremen, to Holland, where he remained some months, till his
father took him to Paris at the time of the signing of the treaty of peace in 1783.
From that time till 1785 he was with his father in England, Holland, and France; during
the whole of which period he was a close student.
At the age of eighteen, at his own request, made from a fear that by remaining longer
in Europe he might imbibe monarchical sentiments, his father permitted him to return
to Massachusetts, where he entered Harvard University, and was graduated in 1787 with
distinguished honors. Soon after leaving college he entered the office of the celebrated
Theophilus Parsons, afterwards Chief Justice of Massachusetts, where he remained the
usual period of three years in the study of the law, when he entered the profession,
and established himself at Boston.
In 1794 Gen. Washington appointed him resident minister to the United Netherlands. From that period till
1801 he was in Europe, employed in diplomatic business, and as a public minister in
Holland, England, and Prussia. Just as Gen. Washington was retiring from office, he appointed Mr. Adams minister plenipotentiary to the Court of Portugal. While on his way to Lisbon he
received a new commission, changing his destination to Berlin. During his residence
of about three years and a half at Berlin, he concluded an important commercial treaty
with Prussia—thus accomplishing the object of his mission. He was recalled near the
close of his father’s administration, and arrived in his native country in September,
1801.
In 1802 he was chosen by the Boston district to the Senate of Massachusetts, and soon
after was elected by the Legislature a Senator in Congress for six years from March
3, 1803. He remained in the Senate of the United States until 1808, when he resigned.
While in the Senate he received the appointment of Professor of
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Rhetoric in Harvard University, an office which he filled with distinguished ability.
In 1809 he was appointed by President Madison envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary to the Court of Russia, where he
rendered the most important services to his country. By his influence with that court,
he induced Russia to offer her mediation between Great Britain and the United States
in the war of 1812; and, when the proper time had arrived, he was placed by President
Madison at the head of five distinguished commissioners to negotiate a treaty of peace, which
was concluded at Ghent in 1814. Mr. Adams was then associated with Mr. Clay and Mr. Gallatin to negotiate a commercial convention with great Britain, and was forthwith appointed
minister plenipotentiary to the Court of St. James. While in Europe, in 1811, he received
the appointment of Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, which
he declined.
After remaining in England till the close of President Madison’s administration, he was called home, and placed by President Monroe at the head of the Department of State, where he remained eight years.
In 1825 he was chosen by the House of Representatives President of the United States
for the term of four years. On leaving the Presidency, in 1829, he returned to his
native place in Massachusetts, and in 1831 he was elected a member of this House,
and by the free suffrages of the people has been continued in that office to the day
of his death.
This is but a hasty and imperfect enumeration of the public stations which have been
filled by my late lamented colleague. Of the manner in which he has discharged these
public trusts it is not necessary for me to speak. Suffice it to say, that his long
eventful life has been devoted to the public service, and the ability and fidelity
with which he has discharged every duty are known and acknowledged throughout the
nation. His fame is so blended with his country’s history that it will live when all
the frail monuments of art shall have crumbled into dust. By his death the country
has lost a pure patriot, science an ardent votary, and the cause of human freedom
a devoted friend.
But it is not as a public man merely that we are to contemplate Mr.
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Adams. In the private walks of life, “where tired dissimulation drops the mask,” and man
appears as he really is, we find in him all those silent and social virtues which
adorn the character. His ardent love of justice, his inflexible regard for truth,
his stern devotion to the cause of civil and religious liberty, were blended with
meekness, sobriety, and charity.
But the crowning glory of his character was his devotion to the cause of his Redeemer.
To that cause he was publicly dedicated on the second day of his earthly existence,
and throughout a long life he manifested a firm belief in Divine revelation, and a
calm trust in that Being who rules among the nations, and spreads the mantle of his
love over his dependent children. But he is gone. The places that have known him,
will now know him no more forever. This instance of mortality, at once so peculiar
and so painful, admonishes us of the uncertainty of life, and teaches us to number
our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.
We tender to his afflicted family our heartfelt sympathy, and assure them that a nation’s
tears will be mingled with theirs. And while we look for consolation to the wisdom
and goodness of an overruling Providence, we would affectionately commend them to
that gracious Being, who has revealed himself as the father of the fatherless and
the widow’s God and friend.
Mr. Hudson concluded by offering the following resolutions:
Resolved, That this House has heard with the deepest sensibility of the death in this Capitol
of John Quincy Adams, a member of the House from the State of Massachusetts.
Resolved, That, as a testimony of respect for the memory of this distinguished statesman,
the officers and members of the House will wear the usual badge of mourning, and attend
the funeral in this Hall on Saturday next, at 12 o’clock.
Resolved, That a committee of thirty be appointed to superintend the funeral solemnities.
Resolved, That the proceedings of this House in relation to the death of John Quincy Adams be communicated to the family of the deceased by the Clerk.
Resolved, That this House, as a further mark of respect for the memory of the deceased, do
adjourn to Saturday next, the day appointed for the funeral.
Before the question was stated on these resolution—
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Mr. Holmes, of South Carolina, rose and said: Mr. Speaker: The mingled tones of sorrow, like the voice of many waters, have come unto us from
a sister State—Massachusetts weeping for her honored son. The State I have the honor
in part to represent once endured, with yours, a common suffering, battled for a common
cause, and rejoiced in a common triumph. Surely, then, it is meet that in this, the
day of your affliction, we should mingle our griefs.
When a great man falls, the nation mourns; when a patriarch is removed, the people
weep. Ours, my associates, is no common bereavement. The chain which linked our hearts
with the gifted spirits of former times has been rudely snapped. The lips from which
flowed those living and glorious truths that our fathers uttered are closed in death!
Yes, my friends, death has been among us! He has not entered the humble cottage of
some unknown, ignoble peasant; he has knocked audibly at the palace of a nation! His
footstep has been heard in the Hall of State! He has cloven down his victim in the
midst of the councils of a people! He has borne in triumph from among you the gravest,
wisest, most reverend head! Ah! he has taken him as a trophy who was once chief over
many States, adorned with virtue, and learning, and truth; he has borne at his chariot-wheels
a renowned one of the earth.
There was no incident in the birth, the life, the death of Mr. Adams, not intimately woven with the history of the land. Born in the night of his country’s
tribulation, he heard the first murmurs of discontent; he saw the first efforts for
deliverance. Whilst yet a little child, he listened with eagerness to the whispers
of freedom as they breathed from the lips of her almost inspired apostles: he caught
the fire that was then kindled; his eye beamed with the first ray; he watched the
day spring from on high, and long before he departed from earth, it was graciously
vouchsafed unto him to behold the effulgence of her noontide glory.
His father saw the promise of the son, and early led him by the hand to drink of the
very fountains of light and liberty itself. His youthful thoughts were kindled with
the idealism of a republic, whose living
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form and features he was destined to behold visibly. Removed at an early age to a
distant country, he there, under the eye of his father, was instructed in the rigid
lore of a Franklin, as I have heard him say. His intellect was expanded by the conversations, and invigorated
by the acute disquisitions of the Academicians, whose fiery zeal, even at that early
period, was waking up the mind of France to deeper thoughts, bolder inquiries, and
more matured reflection—to result ultimately, as we all know, in terrific action.
Returning to this country, he entered into the cool cloisters of the college; passed
through the various stages to acquire that discipline of mind which intense study
can alone impart; and thence, as he was about to emerge, appeared those buds of promise
which soon blossomed into those blushing honors he afterwards wore so thick around
him. His was not the dreamy life of the schools; but he leapt into the arena of activity,
to run a career of glorious emulation with the gifted sprits of the earth. He saw
the efforts to place his country on a deep and stable foundation, where it now rests.
He had seen the colonies emerge into States, and the States cemented into Union, and
realized, in the formation of this confederated Republic, all that his ardent hopes
had pictured out in the recesses of schools. Young as he then was, he contributed,
by the energy of his mind and the vigor of his pen, to support the administration
of Washington, who, we have just been told, transferred him at an early age to a foreign
court; scarcely initiated into its diplomacy before his services were required for
another and a more extended sphere. Passing from that, he returned to his own country,
and was placed by the suffrages of his State in the chamber of the other end of this
Capitol; and there, the activity of his mind, the freedom of his thought, the independence
of his action, rendered him to his constituents, for the time being, unacceptable,
by uniting him to the policy of Mr. Jefferson. He retired from the halls of Congress;
but he went to no ignoble ease. Wearied with the toils, heated with the contests,
covered with the dust of politics, he withdrew to the classic groves of Cambridge,
and there he bathed his weary mind in the pure stream of intellectual rest. Purified,
refreshed, invigorated, he came forth, after severe study and devout prayer, to do
his country ser-
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vice. He was sent immediately to Russia, as has been stated, not to repose amidst
the luxuries of courts, or in rich saloons, amidst the glitter of lights and the swell
of voluptuous music, but to watch the swell and play of those shadowy billows with
which all Europe heaved beneath the throes of the great heart of France.
Mr. Adams saw and felt that the pulse of freedom day by day beat feebler and feebler throughout
the continent. He counselled the ministers of Russia. He was on of those that stimulated them to wake from their
torpor, and he had the satisfaction to behold, from the frozen regions of the north,
those mighty hordes pour out upon the sunny nations of the south to give deliverance
to People, States, and Powers. His own country demanded his services, and he became,
with Gallatin and Clay, a mediator of that peace between two nations which we trust shall exist forever,
while the only contests shall be those of good will on earth and mutual brotherhood.
He went—as his father had gone after the first war of the Revolution—upon the termination
of the second war, to the Court of St. James. He remained not long before another
sphere was opened to him. As Secretary of State for eight years he fulfilled the arduous
duties incident to that high post in a country just emerging from conflict. To the
highest office of the people he was quickly raised; and how in that sphere he moved,
with what ease, ability, and grace, we all know; and history will record—he crushed
no heart beneath the rude grasp of proscription; he left no heritage of widows’ cries
or orphans’ tears.
He disrobed himself with dignity of the vestures of office, not to retire to the shades
of Quincy, but, in the maturity of his intellect, in the vigor of his thought, to
leap into this arena, and to continue, as he had begun, a disciple, an ardent devotee
at the temple of his country’s freedom. How, in this department, he ministered to
his country’s wants, well all know, and have witnessed. How often we have crowded
into that isle, and clustered around that now vacant desk, to listen to the counsels
of wisdom, as they fell from the lips of the venerable Sage, we can all remember,
for it was but of yesterday. But what a change!
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How wondrous! how sudden! ‘Tis like a vision of the night. That form which we beheld
but a few days since, is not cold in death!
But the last Sabbath, and in this Hall, he worshipped with others. Now his spirit mingles with the noble army of martyrs and the just made
perfect, in the eternal adoration of the living God. With him “this is the end of
the earth.” He sleeps the sleep that knows no waking. He is gone—and forever! The
sun that ushers in the morn of that next holy day, while it gilds the lofty dome of
the Capitol, shall rest with soft and mellow light upon the consecrated spot beneath
whose turf forever lies the Patriot Father and the Patriot Sage!
Mr. Vinton, of Ohio, then rose and addressed the House.
Mr. Speaker: When the messenger of death enters this Hall, and bids one of us “come away,” it
is our custom to commit exclusively to some colleague of the departed member, the
solemn ceremony of its announcement. This is all that usage and a respectful tribute
to the memory of the deceased require. But the venerable man, whom the destroying
angel smote down in our very presence—the book of whose great life is now written
and finished—stood out far beyond the rest of us, upon a broader and higher elevation.
It is true he was the son of Massachusetts, and to her belongs the proud honor of
having given him birth. But he was more than the son of Massachusetts; he did not
belong to her alone; he offered himself to his country, and she made him her property.
His fame, his wisdom, and his works, were all his country’s. These are his rich and
common legacy to us all. It is therefore that we of the great national brotherhood,
claim the precious privilege to cluster close around the children of Massachusetts—to
take part with them in this sad solemnity—to sympathize with them, and with them to
give utterance to our sorrow, to our reverence, to our veneration for the departed
dead, and to our deep affliction in this great national bereavement. I did not rise—I
dare not attempt one word of eulogy upon the illustrious dead—nor dare I venture to
portray his exalted character as a statesman, or the bright virtues of his private
life. I know how incompetent I am to the performance of such a task. I trust that
in due
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time, and on some fitting occasion, this will be done by some one of the great and
gifted intellects of Massachusetts. But still I hope I may venture to say, that no
man has heretofore died, when a member of this body, who will fill so large a space
in his country’s history, or who has stamped so deeply his impress on her institutions.
The solemnity of the occasion forbids, perhaps the period has not yet arrived for
the expression of an unbiased opinion respecting the effect of his character and services
on his country’s welfare. But when time shall have numbered with the dead us who were
actors with him upon this great drama of life; when the partialities of his friends
and the prejudices of his enemies, if any he have left behind, shall have been buried
in one common grave, he and the work of his great life may be safely trusted to the
truthful historian, and to the judgment of an impartial posterity. To this great and
just ordeal, he, with all the renowned and mighty of the earth who have gone before
him, must come at last. And to its verdict those of us who knew him best, and were
most devoted to him, are most willing to commit him, and all that he achieved. The
time, the place, and the manner of his death, all conspire to excite the profoundest
sensation every where, as they have done in this Hall; and especially to teach us
“what shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue;” to teach us how vain and valueless
are all our struggles and contests here for distinction or for power; and, above all,
that no human greatness, no fame, no honor, no high attainment, no divine exaltation
of intellect, can aught avail us to avert the dread sentence of God upon poor mortal
man: “Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return.”
Mr. Mcdowell, of Virginia, then rose and said: Such for a half a century, Mr. Speaker, has been
the eminent position of Mr. Adams in the eyes of his countrymen; his participation in the highest honors which it was
theirs to give; his intimate association with controlling events in their national
annals and with the formation of that public opinion which brought them about; such
the veneration and almost universal homage entertained for his intellect and virtues,
and such in all respects his great relations to this entire Union, and to the daily
thought
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of its growing millions, that on this sad occasion the language of all its parts will
be the language of lamentation and of tribute. It is not for Massachusetts to mourn
alone over a solitary and exclusive bereavement. It is not for her to feel alone a
solitary and exclusive sorrow. No, sir; no! Her sister Commonwealths gather to her
side in this hour of her affliction, and, intertwining their arms with hers, they
bend together over the bier of her illustrious son—feeling as she feels, and weeping
and she weeps over a sage, a patriot, and a statesman gone! It was in these great
characteristics of individual and of public man that his country reverenced that son
when living; and such, with painful sense of her common loss, will she deplore him
now that he is dead.
Born in our Revolutionary day, and brought up in early and cherished intimacy with
the fathers and founders of the Republic, he was a living bond of connexion between the present and the past—the venerable representative of the memories of
another age; and the zealous, watchful, and powerful one of the expectations, interests,
and progressive knowledge of his own.
There he sat, with his intense eye upon every thing that passed, the picturesque and
rare old man; unapproachable by all others in the unity of his character and in the
thousand-fold anxieties which centered upon him. No human being ever entered this
Hall without turning habitually and with heartfelt deference first to him, and few
ever left it without pausing as they went to pour out their blessings upon that spirit
of consecration to the country which brought and which kept him here.
Standing upon the extreme boundary of human life, and disclaiming all the relaxations
and exemptions of age, his outer framework only was crumbling away. The glorious engine
within still worked on unimpeded and unhurt, amid all the dilapidations around it,
and worked on with its wonted and its iron power, until the blow was sent from above
which crushed it into fragments before us. And however appalling that blow, and however
profoundly it smote upon our own feelings as we beheld its extinguishing effect upon
his, where else could it have fallen so fitly upon him? Where else could he have been
relieved from the yoke of his labors so well as in the field where he bore it? Where
else
<Page 21>
would he himself have been so willing to have yielded up his life, as upon the post
of duty and by the side of that very altar to which he had devoted it? Where, but
in the Capitol of his country, to which all the throbbings and hopes of his heart
had been given, would the dying patriot be so willing that those hopes and throbbings
should cease? And where, but from this mansion-house of liberty on earth, could this
dying Christian more fitly go to his mansion-house of eternal liberty on high?
But kindling to the imagination and soothing even to the feelings as is the death
of Mr. Adams, with all the accessories and associations of this spot around him, how infinitely
deeper is the interest which is given to it by the conviction that he was willing
and ready to meet it! He was happily spared by the preservation of his rich faculties
to the last from becoming a melancholy spectacle of dotard and drivelling old age. He was still more happily spared, by the just and wise and truthful use
of those faculties, from becoming the melancholy and revolting spectacle of irreverent
and wicked old age. None knew better or felt more deeply than he, that
“Tis not the whole of life to live,
“Nor all of death to die;”
and hence for long years, his life has been a continuous and beautiful illustration
of the great truth that, whilst the fear of man is the consummation of all folly,
the fear of God is the beginning of all wisdom. To such an one, “composure” amid the
perils of death, and when “the last of earth has come,” is a supporting power frequently
and divinely given; and, if it has not been permitted to him, as to a prophet of old,
to be spared the bitterness of death, and to go to the heaven that he looked for and
that he loved in a chariot of fire, yet to the eye of human faith his access to the
same abode has been as speedy and as safe. Instead of wearing away under the waste
of disease, and passing through all the woes and weaknesses which dissolving nature
generally undergoes, a blow of brief but mortal agony strikes him at once into the
tomb, and thus his spirit, instantly freed, goes right up to the parent fountain from
which it came. The messenger calls, the soul is in Heaven.
<Page 22>
At this moment of fresh affliction, whilst standing in the very presence of death,
it is not meet to go into any special review of the labors or opinions of the departed.
Whatever may be thought of those politically, he will never be denied the possession
of great talents, actuated by great virtues, and directed with boldness, honesty,
and earnest purpose, for an unequalled length of time, to whatever, in his judgment, was best for the interests, honor,
and perpetuity of his country. This is the lesson taught by his life. That which is
taught by his death calls upon us all, with solemn and appealing cry, “Be ye, oh,
be ready, for you know not the hour when the Son of man cometh!”
Mr. Newell, of New Jersey, rose and moved the following as an additional resolution:
Resolved, That the seat in this Hall just vacated by the death of the late John Quincy Adams be unoccupied for thirty days, and that it, together with the Hall, remain clothed
with the symbol of mourning during that time.
Mr. Tallmadge, of New York, rose and said:
Mr. Speaker: I do not rise to present an eulogium upon the character of the deceased, but I am
confident that every manifestation of respect for the memory of the illustrious dead
will meet with a cordial response from every member of this House. In compliance with
the suggestions of several members, and in accordance with my own feelings, I ask
leave to introduce the following additional resolution:
Resolved, That the Speaker appoint one member of this House from each State and Territory,
as a committee to escort the remains of our venerable friend, the Honorable John Quincy Adams, to the place designated by his friends for his interment.
All the above resolutions were unanimously agreed to.
Mr. Vinton then moved that the Speaker’s announcement of the death of the Hon. John Quincy Adams be entered on the journal. This also was agreed to unanimously, and then the House
adjourned to Saturday.
<Page 23>
In the Senate, after the formal annunciation of the death of Mr. ADAMS had been made—
Mr. Davis, of Massachusetts, rose and thus addressed that body:
Mr. President: By the recent affliction of my colleague, (Mr. Webster,) a painful duty devolves upon me. The message just delivered from the House proves
that the hand of God has been again among us. A great and good man has gone from out
midst. If, in speaking of John Quincy Adams, I can give utterance to the language of my own heart, I am confident I shall meet
with a response from the Senate.
He was born in the then Province of Massachusetts, while she was girding herself for
the great Revolutionary struggle which was then before her. His parentage is too well
known to need even an allusion; yet I may be pardoned if I say, that his father seemed
born to aid in the establishment of our free Government, and his mother was a suitable
companion and co-laborer of such a patriot. The cradle hymns of the child were the
songs of liberty. The power and competence of man for self-government were the topics
which he most frequently heard discussed by the wise men of the day, and the inspiration
thus caught, gave form and pressure to his after life. Thus early imbued with the
love of free institutions, educated by his father for the service of his country,
and early led by Washington to its altar, he has stood before the world as one of its eminent statesmen. He has
occupied, in turn, almost every place of honor which the country could give him, and
for more than half a century has been thus identified with its history. Under any
circumstances, I should feel myself unequal to the task of rendering justice to his
memory; but, with the debilitating effect of bad health still upon me, I can only
with extreme brevity touch upon some of the most prominent features of his life.
While yet a young man he was, in May 1794, appointed Minister Resident to the States
General of the United Netherlands. In May, 1796, two years after, he was appointed
Minister Plenipotentiary at Lisbon, in Portugal. These honors were conferred on him
by George Washington, with the advice and consent of the Senate.
In May, 1797, he was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary to the Kind of Prussia. In
March, 1798, and probably while at Berlin, he was ap-
<Page 24>
pointed a Commissioner, with full powers to negotiate a treaty of amity and commerce
with Sweden.
After his return to the United States he was elected by the Legislature of Massachusetts
a Senator, and discharged the duties of that station in this chamber from the 4th
of March, 1803, until June, 1808, when, differing from his colleague and from the
State upon a great political question, resigned his seat. In June, 1809, he was nominated
and appointed Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court of St. Petersburgh.
While at that Court, in February, 1811, he was appointed an Associate Justice of the
Supreme Court of the United States, to fill a vacancy occasioned by the death of Judge
Cushing, but never took his seat upon the Bench.
In May, 1813, he, with Messrs. Gallatin and Bayard, was nominated Envoy Extraordinary
and Minister Plenipotentiary to negotiate a treaty of peace with Great Britain, under
the mediation of Russia, and a treaty of commerce with Russia. From causes which it
is unnecessary to notice, nothing was accomplished under this appointment. But afterwards,
in January, 1814, he, with Messrs. Gallatin, Bayard, Clay, and Russell, were appointed
Ministers Plenipotentiary and Extraordinary to negotiate a treaty of peace, and a
treat of commerce with Great Britain. This mission succeeded in effecting a pacification,
and the name of Mr. Adams is subscribed to the treaty of Ghent.
After this eventful crisis in our public affairs, he was, in February, 1815, selected
by Mr. Madison to represent the country, and protect its interests at the Court of
St. James, and he remained there as Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary
until Mr. Monroe became President of the United States.
On the 5th of March, 1817, at the commencement of the new administration, he was appointed
Secretary of State, and continued in the office while that gentleman was at the head
of the administration.
In 1825, he was elected his successor, and discharged the duties of President for
one term, ending on the third of March, 1829.
Here followed a brief period of repose from public service, and Mr. Adams retired to the family mansion at Quincy; but was elected a
<Page 25>
member of the House of Representatives, from district in which he lived, at the next
election which occurred after his return to it, and took his seat in December, 1831;
he retained it, by successive elections, to the day of his death.
I have not ventured, on this occasion, beyond a bare enumeration of the high places
of trust and confidence which have been conferred upon the deceased. The service covers
a period of more than half a century; and what language can I employ which will portray
more forcibly the great merits of the deceased, the confidence reposed in him by the
public, or the ability with which he discharged the duties devolved upon him, than
by this simple narration of recorded facts? An ambitious man could not desire a more
emphatic eulogy.
Mr. Adams, however, was not merely a statesman, but a ripe, accomplished scholar, who, during
a life of remarkably well directed industry, made those great acquirements which adorned
his character and gave to it the manly strength of wisdom and intelligence.
As a statesman and patriot, he will rank among the illustrious men of an age prolific
in great names, and greatly distinguished for its progress in civilization. The productions
of his pen are proofs of a vigorous mind, imbued with a profound knowledge of what
it investigates, and of a memory which was singularly retentive and capacious.
But his character is not made up of those conspicuous qualities alone. He will be
remembered for the virtues of private life, for his elevated moral example, for his
integrity, for his devotion to his duties as a Christian, as a neighbor, and as the
head of a family. In all these relations few persons have set a more steadfast or
brighter example, and few have descended to the grave where the broken ties of social
and domestic affection, have been more sincerely lamented. Great as may be the loss
to the public of one so gifted and wise, it is by the family that his death will be
most deeply felt. His aged and beloved partner, who has so long shared the honors
of his career, and to whom all who know her are bound by the ties of friendship, will
believe that we share her grief, mourn her bereavement, and sympathize with her in
her affliction.
<Page 26>
It is believed to have been the earnest wish of his heart to die, like Chatham, in
the midst of his labors. It was a sublime thought, that where he had toiled in the
house of the nation, in hours of the day devoted to its service, the stroke of death
should reach him, and there sever the ties of love and patriotism which bound him
to earth. He fell in his seat, attacked by paralysis, of which he had before been
a subject. To describe the scene which ensued would be impossible. It was more than
the spontaneous gush of feeling which all such events call forth, so much to the honor
of our nature. It was the expression of reverence for his moral worth, of admiration
for his great intellectual endowments, and of veneration for his age and public services.
All gathered round the sufferer, and the strong sympathy and deep feeling which were
manifested, showed that the business of the House (which was instantly adjourned)
was forgotten amid the distressing anxieties of the moment. He was soon removed to
the apartment of the Speaker, where he remained surrounded by afflicted friends till
the weary clay resigned its immortal spirit. “This is the end of earth!” Brief but
emphatic words. They were among the last uttered by the dying Christian.
Thus has closed the life of one whose purity, patriotism, talents, and learning have
seldom been seriously questioned. To say that he had faults, would only be declaring
that he was human. Let him who is exempt from error venture to point them out. In
this long career of public life it would be strange if the venerable man had not met
with many who have differed from him in sentiment, or who have condemned his acts.
If there be such, let the mantle of oblivion be thrown over each unkind thought. Let
not the grave of the “old man eloquent” be desecrated by unfriendly remembrances,
but let us yield our homage to his many virtues, and let it be our prayer that we
may so perform our duties here that, if summoned in a like sudden and appalling manner,
we may not be found unprepared or unable to utter his words, “I am composed.”
Mr. President, with this imperfect sketch of the character and services of a great
man, I leave the subject in the hands of the Senate by moving the resolutions which
I send to the Chair:
<Page 27>
Resolved, That the Senate has received with deep sensibility the message from the House of
Representatives announcing the death of the Hon. John Quincy Adams, a Representative from the State of Massachusetts.
Resolved, That in token of respect for the memory of the deceased, the Senate will attend
his funeral at the hour appointed by the House of Representatives, and will wear the
usual badge of mourning for thirty days.
Resolved, That, as a further mark of respect for the memory of the deceased, the Senate do
now adjourn until Saturday next, the time appointed for the funeral.
The resolutions having been read—
Mr. Benton, of Missouri, addressed the Senate as follows:
Mr. President: The voice of his native State has been heard, through one of the Senators of Massachusetts,
announcing the death of her aged and most distinguished son. The voice of the other
Senator, (Mr. Webster,) is not heard, nor is his presence seen. A domestic calamity, known to us all, and
felt by us all, confines him to the chamber of private grief, while the Senate is
occupied with the public manifestations of a respect and sorrow which national loss
inspires. In the absence of that Senator, and as the member of his body longest here,
it is not unfitting or unbecoming in me to second the motion which has been made for
extending the last honors of the Senate to him who, forty-five years ago, was a member
of this body, who, at the time of his death, was among the oldest members of the House
of Representatives, and who, putting the years of his service together, was the oldest
of all the members of the American Government.
The eulogium of Mr. Adams is made in the facts of his life, which the Senator from Massachusetts (Mr. Davis) has so strikingly stated, that, from early manhood to octogenarian age, he has been
constantly and most honorably employed in the public service. For a period of more
than fifty years, from the time of his first appointment as minister abroad under
Washington, to his last election to the House of Representatives by the people of
his native district, he has been constantly retained in the public service, and that,
not by the favor of a Sovereign, or by hereditary title, but by the elections and
appointments of republican government. This fact makes the eulogy of the illustrious
deceased. For
<Page 28>
what, except a union of all the qualities which command the esteem and confidence
of man, could have ensured a public service so long, by appointments free and popular,
and from sources so various and exalted? Minister many times abroad; member of this
body; member of the House of Representatives; Cabinet minister; President of the United
States; such has been the galaxy of his splendid appointments. And what but moral
excellence the most perfect; intellectual ability the most eminent; fidelity the most
unwavering; service the most useful, could have commanded such a succession of appointments
so exalted, and from sources so various and so eminent? Nothing less could have commanded
such a series of appointments; and accordingly we see the union of all these great
qualities in him who has received them.
In this long career of public service Mr. Adams was distinguished not only by faithful attention to all the great duties of his stations,
but to all their less and minor duties. He was not the Salaminian galley, to be launched
only on extraordinary occasions, but he was the ready vessel, always launched when
the duties of his station required it, be the occasion great or small. As President,
as cabinet minister, as minister abroad, he examined all questions that came before
him, and examined all, in all their parts, in all the minutiæ of their detail, as
well as in all the vastness of their comprehension. As Senator, and as a Member of
the House of Representatives, the obscure committee room was as much the witness of
his laborious application to the drudgery of legislation, as the halls of the two
Houses were to the ever ready speech, replete with knowledge, which instructed all
hearers, enlightened all subjects, and gave dignity and ornament to debate.
In the observance of all the proprieties of life, Mr. Adams was a most noble and impressive example. He cultivated the minor as well as the greater
virtues. Wherever his presence could give aid and countenance to what was useful and
honorable to man, there he was. In the exercises of the school and of the college—in
the meritorious meetings of the agricultural, mechanical, and commercial societies—in
attendance upon Divine worship—he gave the punctual attendance rarely seen but in
those who are free from the weight of public cares.
<Page 29>
Punctual to every duty, death found him at the post of duty; and where else could
it have found him, at any stage of his career, for the fifty years of his illustrious
public life? From the time of his first appointment by Washington to his last election
by the people of his native town, where could death have found him but at the post
of duty? At that post, in the fullness of age, in the ripeness of renown, crowned
with honors, surrounded by his family, his friends, and admirers, and in the very
presence of the national representation, he has been gathered to his fathers, leaving
behind him the memory of public services which are the history of his country for
half a century, and the example of a life, public and private, which should be the
study and the model of the generations of his countrymen.
When Mr. B. concluded, the resolutions were unanimously adopted, and the Senate adjourned
to Saturday.
House of Representatives, March 1, 1848.—The Speaker laid before the House the following communication:
“Washington, February 29, 1848.
“Sir: The resolutions in honor of my dear deceased husband, passed by the illustrious
assembly over which you preside, and of which he at the moment of his death was a
member, have been duly communicated to me.
“Penetrated with grief at this distressing event of my life; mourning the loss of
one who has been at once my example and my support through the trials of half a century,
permit me nevertheless to express through you my deepest gratitude for the signal
manner in which the public regard has been voluntarily manifested by your honorable
body, and the consolation derived to me and mine from the reflection that the unwearied
efforts of an old public servant have not even in this world proved without their
reward in the generous appreciation of them by his country.
“With great respect, I remain, sir, your obedient servant,
“LOUISA CATHARINE ADAMS.
“To the Hon. Robert C. Winthrop,
“Speaker of the House of Representatives of the U.S.”
<Page 30>
The following members compose the Committee of Arrangements, appointed in compliance
with Mr. Hudson’s resolutions:
Mr. Hudson, of Mass, Chairman, | Mr. Gayle, of Alabama, |
Mr. Williams, of Maine, | Mr. Brown, of Mississippi, |
Mr. Wilson, of New Hampshire, | Mr. Morse, of Louisiana, |
Mr. Marsh, of Vermont, | Mr. Vinton, of Ohio, |
Mr. Thurston, of Rhode Island, | Mr. Duncan, of Kentucky, |
Mr. Smith, of Connecticut, | Mr. Cocke, of Tennessee, |
Mr. White, of New York, | Mr. Wick, of Indiana, |
Mr. Edsall, of New Jersey, | Mr. Lincoln, of Illinois, |
Mr. Dickey, of Pennsylvania, | Mr. Bowlin, of Missouri, |
Mr. Houston, of Delaware, | Mr. Johnson, of Arkansas, |
Mr. Roman, of Maryland, | Mr. McClelland, of Michigan, |
Mr. McDowell, of Virginia, | Mr. Cabell, of Florida, |
Mr. Barringer, of North Carolina, | Mr. Kaufman, of Texas, |
Mr. Holmes, of South Carolina, | Mr. Leffler, of Iowa, |
Mr. Cobb, of Georgia, | Mr. Tweedy, of Wisconsin Territory. |
The following gentlemen compose the Committee of One from each State and Territory,
under Mr. Tallmadge’s resolution, to escort the remains to the place designated by his friends for interment:
Mr. Tallmadge, of New York, | Mr. Hammons, of Maine, |
Mr. Wilson, of New Hampshire, | Mr. Collamer, of Vermont, |
Mr. Ashmun, of Massachusetts, | Mr. Thurston, of Rhode Island, |
Mr. J. A. Rockwell, of Connecticut, | Mr. Newell, of New Jersey, |
Mr. McIlvaine, of Pennsylvania, | Mr. J. W. Houston, of Delaware, |
Mr. Ligon, of Maryland, | Mr. Meade, of Virginia, |
Mr. Barringer, of North Carolina, | Mr. Holmes, of South Carolina, |
Mr. Lumpkin, of Georgia | Mr. Hilliard, of Alabama, |
Mr. A. G. Brown, of Mississippi, | Mr. Morse, of Louisiana, |
Mr. Edwards, of Ohio, | Mr. French, of Kentucky, |
Mr. Gentry, of Tennessee, | Mr. C. B. Smith, of Indiana, |
Mr. Wentworth, of Illinois, | Mr. Phelps, of Missouri, |
Mr. R. W. Johnson, of Arkansas, | Mr. Bingham, of Michigan, |
Mr. Cabell, of Florida, | Mr. Kaufman, of Texas, |
Mr. W. Thompson, of Iowa, | Mr. Tweedy, of Wisconsin Territory. |
<Page 31>
DISCOURSE
OF
REV. R. R. GURLEY,
Chaplain to the House of Representatives,
AT
THE FUNERAL OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
OF
REV. R. R. GURLEY,
Chaplain to the House of Representatives,
AT
THE FUNERAL OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
JOB Xi, 17, 18.
And thine age shall be clearer than the noonday; thou shalt shine forth; thou shalt
be as the morning; and thou shalt be secure, because there is hope.
In some circumstances, on some occasions, we most naturally express our emotions in
silence and in tears. What voice of man can add to the impressiveness and solemnity
of this scene? The presence and aspect of this vast assembly, the Chief Magistrate,
Counsellors, Judges, Senators, and Representatives of the nation, distinguished officers of the
Army and the Navy, and the honored Ambassadors from foreign Powers—these symbols and
badges of a universal mourning, darkening this Hall into sympathy with our sorrow,
leave no place for the question, “Know ye not that a prince and a great man is fallen
in Israel?” Near to us, indeed, has come the invisible hand of the Almighty—that hand
in which is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind; in this
very Hall, from yonder seat, which he so long occupied, in the midst of the Representatives
of the people, has it taken one full of years and honors, eminent, for more than half
a century, in various departments of the public service; who adorned every station,
even the highest, by his abilities and virtues; and whose influence, powerful in its
beneficence, is felt in many, if not in all, the States of the civilized world.
Yet, at the hazard of weakening, rather than strengthening, the impression which this
scene must make upon every mind, I must not shrink from the duty to which I have been
summoned; I dare not
<Page 32>
hesitate to enforce the great moral lesson which this scene should teach, lest the
delinquency should be rebuked even by the spirit of the illustrious man around whose
bier the Representatives of a whole nation gather; lest the very domes, and arches,
and pillars, and walls, of this Capitol, from which his great soul has just ascended,
and which seem still informed by his vital influence, should become vocal with remonstrance.
The words of the friend of Job, in the text, instruct us in regard to the effect of
a practical sense of religious duty on character in old age.
Incomparably great and sublime are the revelations of Christianity, not only in that
they assure us of a future and eternal state, of which nature speaks but problematically
and conjecturally, but in that they disclose our relations to our Maker—the realities
of His providence and grace—the laws which He has established for the renovation,
progressive development, and final perfection of our rational and moral nature, and
the consequences, infinitely momentous, of good or evil, respectively, which are to
follow obedience or disobedience to these laws, in worlds beyond death, and inaccessible
to essential change.
Even nature herself would condemn us, if here, in the shadow, and, as it were, in
the presence, of death, we should cherish the vain imagination that we are merely
creatures of sense and time—governed by no laws except those of our physical being—under
no higher and more fearful responsibilities than to our fellow men—related to no greater
and more precious interests than those of this world; and that the mighty intellect
which holds such large discourse, in which the whole universe seems mirrored in all
the variety of its objects, harmonies, relations, and proportions, perishes in the
transition from life to death; for, in the language of the Apostle, “the invisible
things of Him (God) are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made,
even his eternal power and Godhead;” and thus nature herself, by a law written by
her own hand upon the heart, binds us in responsibility to her great Author, whose
glory these heavens declare, making their voice heard among all the nations and tribes
of man, while of his universal and omnipotent Providence day unto day uttereth speech,
and night unto night showeth knowledge.
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But while nature instructs us in some great religious truths, she shadows forth, by
fit and impressive emblems, the possibility, and more, the probability, of those high
moral and Divine laws, for a clear knowledge of which we are indebted to Revelation;
to the existence of which, emanating as they do from the spiritual world, we are so
insensible, because, at present excluded from its mysteries, showing how, as by one
universal and invisible law of attraction, the Heavens and the earth are held in communion,
and all the systems of Astronomy, guided in their ever relatively varying, mighty,
and harmonious revolutions, giving to man all the beneficence of the seasons, and
supplying, by their constant and benignant influences, all the necessities of his
physical nature and condition; so may it be, as Christianity declares that it is,
a Divine law, that only by a knowledge of his Creator, reverence for his authority,
submission to his will, obedience to his commandments, acquiescence in the methods
of his grace, and a true dedication of himself to the high service of his kingdom,
as founded by our Saviour, Christ, man can attain to the chief good of his nature,
and be exalted to an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, unfading, and eternal.
Not unfamiliar were ideas, kindred to these, to the venerable statesman who had just
fallen like a father in the midst of his children, and to render the tribute of our
respect to whose character and memory we are all mourners here. “Man (allow me to
borrow his own words) is a curious and inquisitive being, and the exercise of his
reason, the immortal part of his nature, consists of inquiries into the relations
between the effects which fall within the sphere of his observation, and their causes
which are unseen. The earth beneath his feet, and the vault of Heaven over his head,
are the first objects which force themselves upon his observation, and invite him
to contemplation. The earth and the sky, elements so different in their nature, yet
indissolubly united by the mysterious mandate of Almighty Power, indicate to his perception,
and foreshow to his reason, the condition of his own existence, compounded of body
and soul, of matter and of mind. The earth ministers to each and all of his senses
the knowledge of its physical properties. He sees, hears, feels, inhales, and tastes
of earth and its productions, adapted to
<Page 34>
his subsistence and to the necessities of his life on earth. The sky is accessible
only to his sight; and, although peopled with splendors, dazzling in brightness, and
infinite in numbers, still presents to his bewildered imagination only the lights
of the firmament, like a halo of glory surrounding the universe, but glowing at distances
too remote to come within the reach of any other of his senses. He soon discovers,
that distant as the great Luminary may be from earth, yet the earth could not exist
without his generative beams, and that the Heavens declare the glory of God, and the
firmament showeth forth his handy work.”*His conviction of the necessity for a Divine Revelation was as unequivocal as of the
fact of its existence. “But (I adopt his words) the worship of idols is the first
great error of man in the state of nature. His unassisted mind has not energy to conceive
the foundation of all Truth that there is one, and only one God, the Creator and Governor
of the Universe. Bereft of that Divine Instructor, man sees in every thing around
him the necessity of a Creator, but sees not that there is and can be but one.”
And can it be doubted, that a firm faith in the great truths to which nature in all
her works testifies—of the eternal power and Godhead of our Creator—and in the truths
still more impressive to us of the Christian Revelation—that a practical sense, not
only of the doctrine of immortality, but of individual and constant responsibility
to the infinite Father and Judge of the Universe—of his laws as extending over all
the conditions and circumstances, and throughout the whole duration of our rational
being—of our fallen condition, and the means of recovery through the mission and death
of his Son and the grace of his Spirit, and of the certain connexion between our character and conduct in this life, and our character and condition in
that life which is to come, can it be doubted,
<Page 35>
that a firm faith in these truths will so correct the disorders of the affections,
so restrain and repress evil passions, so guard the imagination, fortify the conscience,
enlighten and exalt the reason, as to form a character clearer even in age than the
noonday, and which to all beholders shall shine forth, even to the close of life,
with the serene and cheerful light of the morning.
Not more certainly is the body invigorated and preserved by suitable food, by manly
exercises, by the vital air, than are the intellectual and moral faculties by the
investigation and reception of divine truths, by habits of obedience to the divine
will, by cheerful submission to the order and discipline of Divine Providence. Nor
let us ever distrust the Father of our spirits, who knows perfectly all the wants
of our nature, but rest assured that his commandments in the sacred Scriptures are
entirely in harmony with the decrees of his providence; and that as to fear Him and
keep His commandments is the whole duty (because the highest duty, and comprehending
all others,) so will it prove the whole and eternal happiness of man. If the indissoluble
and harmonious connexion between the laws of nature, of Providence and the moral law, be not always obvious,
it is always certain. Over all the darkness, disturbances, and evils of the world
shines revealed more or less clearly, like the serene and cheerful heavens, this immutable
law, binding Virtue, however obscure, persecuted, or forsaken, to reward; Duty, however
humble or arduous, to happiness. Hence, the declaration, that all things shall work
together for good to them who love God, and that all things are theirs—the past and
future—things temporal and spiritual, prosperity and adversity, angels, and principalities,
and power, and God himself, in all the resources of his wisdom and all the eternity
of his reign.
How shone out, clear as the noonday, yet mild and gentle as the morning, even in age,
in the life and character of that great and venerable man, around whose precious,
but, alas! inanimate form we all press in gratitude, admiration, and love, those high
virtues derived from faith in God and nurtured by his revealed truth, this bereaved
Congress, and, I may add, this nation witnesses.
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History will transmit to future generations a just portrait of his extraordinary character,
blending the expression of Roman fortitude, inflexibility, and patriotism, with the
purer and holier sentiments of universal philanthropy; the rarest simplicity of manners
with the learning of the scholar, the dignity of the statesman, and the profound wisdom
of the sage.
But what avails it for our consolation, what to him, independently of his sense of
religious obligation, did it avail in the great hour of his extremity, that he had
stood among the eminent in knowledge and station, shared the highest honors his country
could bestow, and won renown even from distant nations?
It is not improbable that the mind of our venerated friend and father received lessons
in moral and religious duty from his illustrious parents even in his early years,
which were never effaced. His excellent mother, in 1778, wrote to him in these words:
“Great learning and superior abilities, should you ever possess them, will be of little
value and small estimation, unless virtue, honor, truth, and integrity are added to
them. Adhere to those religious sentiments and principles which were early instilled
into your mind, and remember that you are accountable to your Maker for all words
and actions.” She adds, in the same letter, “dear as you are to me, I would much rather
you should have found your grave in the Ocean you have just crossed, than see you
an immoral, profligate, or graceless child.” Possibly, (for in the kingdom of Providence
there is a close and certain connexion between minute moral causes and beneficent and great final results,) in these words
was that instruction which, falling like the rain and distilling as the dew, first
awoke into activity that sense of religious duty, and those principles of virtue,
which so animated and governed his subsequent life.*
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Truly emblematic of his moral integrity and strength of character, would be the granite
column from his native hills, one and entire, just in its proportions, towering in
its height, immoveable in its foundations, and pointing to Heaven as the Temple and
Throne of everlasting authority, the final refuge, the imperishable home of all regenerated
and faithful souls.
Independence of mere human authority in the use of his reason, on all subjects, was
united with veneration most sincere and profound for
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the sacred Scriptures, as a supernatural revelation from God, “whose prerogative extends
not less to the reason than the will of man,”* and from a daily perusal of the divine word, and a constant and devout attendance
upon the public worship of the Sabbath, although differing on some points from common
opinions, he cherished enlarged views of Christian communion, and recognised in most,
if not all the religious denominations of this country, members of one and the same
family and kingdom of Jesus Christ.
It is unnecessary to add, that in all the relations of private and domestic life he
was eminently exemplary, discharging with strict fidelity every social obligation,
ever disposed to co-operate in works of public and general utility, and to extend
a prompt and bountiful hand for the relief of indigence or distress.
In November, 1843, he addressed his fellow-citizens in Dedham, and said: “With the
dawn of to-morrow’s day I propose, if it be the will of God, to leave my home, in
your service, to repair to the city of Cincinnati, there, at the invitation of a learned
Society, to give them my humble aid in laying the corner stone of an Astronomical
Observatory.” Behold this venerable patriarch performing, at an inclement season of
the year, a journey of a thousand miles, under a sense of obligation which he deemed
imposed on his constituents by a declaration in the constitution of Massachusetts,
“that the encouragement of the arts and sciences and all good literature tends to
the honor of God, the advantage of the Christian religion, and the benefit of this
and the other United States of America.” He declared that this clause in the constitution
of Massachusetts, taken in connexion with the recommendation of the Revolutionary Congress under which that constitution
was adopted, made the encouragement of the arts and sciences, and all good literature,
“one of the most sacred duties of the people of Massachusetts in all ages.” “It is
(to adopt his own words on this occasion) enjoined upon them as a part of their duty
to God; it is urged upon their posterity as always adapted to promote their own happiness
and the general welfare of their
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country. The voices of your forefathers,*founders of the social compact, calling from their graves in harmony louder and sweeter
than the music of the spheres, command you, in piety to God, and in patriotism to
your country, to patronize and encourage the arts and sciences, and all good literature;
and I deem it, as your representative, a tacit and standing instruction from you to
perform, as far as may be my ability, that part of your constitutional duty for you.”
Most nobly was this duty performed; its beneficial consequences to the cause of science,
though already extensive, have but begun to be developed; and this act will ever be
viewed as illustrating, not only his attachment to the cause of science, but that
also (for which it is here introduced) of his unhesitating and uncompromising obedience
to the sense of duty.
How can I proceed, (considering the brief moments to which I am necessarily limited,)
and when volumes will not contain the record of those labors and great actions of
his life which have exalted his own character, and shed unfading glory on his country.
Let us bless God, to whom he was indebted for all his abilities and all his success,
who endued him for the high services he performed, who enabled him to put on righteousness
as a garment, and judgment as a robe and a diadem.
Let our united sympathies be expressed to his bereaved family, overwhelmed by this
sudden and mighty affliction, by which the voice of the husband, the father, the guide,
is silenced, the light of his venerable countenance withdrawn, and the places which
he knew his revered and beloved form made to know it no more. He, whose mercy is great
above the heavens, is Himself the light and strength of his people in the most dark
and dreary hour of affliction; nor can mourners be desolate who look to the eternal
God as a refuge, and feel the support and protection of His almighty arm. If we believe
that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also that sleep in Jesus will God bring
with him. Comfort one another with these words.
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Alas, the sad and appalling ruins of death! “This is the end of earth.” Approach!
lovers of pleasure, seekers after wisdom, aspirants, by pre-eminence in station, and
power, and influence among men, to Fame, see the end of human distinctions and earthly
greatness! Surely man walketh in a vain show; surely man in his best estate is altogether
vanity. How pertinent to this scene the words of Job: “He leadeth princes away spoiled,
and overthroweth the mighty. He removeth away the speech of the trusty, and taketh
away the understanding of the aged. He discovereth deep things out of darkness, and
bringeth out to light the shadow of Death!” How, indeed, is the mighty fallen, and
the head of the wise laid low! All flesh is grass—all the glory of man as the flower
of the field. And shall this vast congregation soon be brought to the grave—that house
appointed for all the living? Hear, then, the great announcement of the Son of God:
“I am the resurrection and the life, and whosoever believeth in me, though he were
dead yet shall he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.”
Is it strange that he who communed so much with the future as the great statesman
to whose virtues and memory we now pay this sad, final, solemn tribute of honor and
affection, should, in the last conversation I ever had with him, have expressed both
regret and astonishment at the indifference among too many of our public men to the
truths and ordinances of our holy Religion? Is it to affect our hearts that he has
been permitted to fall in the midst of us, to arouse us from this insensibility, and
cause us to press towards the gates of the eternal city of God? Let us bless God for
another great example to shine upon us, that another star (we humbly trust) is planted
amid the heavenly constellations to guide us to eternity! Amen.
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THE FUNERAL PROCESSION.
The procession which attended the mortal remains of the honorable John Quincy Adams to the Congressional Burying Ground, formed at the Capitol immediately after the
religious ceremonies in the Hall of the House of Representatives were performed, and
moved from the east front of the Capitol, through the north gate, round the western
portion of the public grounds, and proceeded to the cemetery in the following order:
Military Companies.
Band.
The Chaplains of both Houses of Congress, and Clergy of the District.
Physicians who attended the deceased.
Committee of Arrangements.
Pall-Bearers.
Mr. J. F. Harvey, Conductor of the Car.
The family and friends of the deceased.
The Senators and Representatives from the State of Massachusetts, as mourners.
The Sergeant-at-Arms of the House of Representatives.
The House of Representatives of the United States, preceded by their Speaker and Clerk.
The other Officers of the House of Representatives.
Band.
The Chaplains of both Houses of Congress, and Clergy of the District.
Physicians who attended the deceased.
Committee of Arrangements.
Pall-Bearers.
Hon. J. J. McKay, N. Carolina, | Hon. Truman Smith, Conn., | |
Hon. Linn Boyd, Kentucky, | Hon. J. R. Ingersoll, Penn., | |
Hon. John C. Calhoun, S.C., | CORPSE. | Hon. Thomas H. Benton, Mo., |
Hon. Justice J. M. Wayne, | Hon. Justice J. McLean, | |
General George Gibson, | Com. Charles Morris, | |
Hon. W. W. Seaton, | Hon. Thomas H. Crawford. |
The family and friends of the deceased.
The Senators and Representatives from the State of Massachusetts, as mourners.
The Sergeant-at-Arms of the House of Representatives.
The House of Representatives of the United States, preceded by their Speaker and Clerk.
The other Officers of the House of Representatives.
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The Sergeant-at-Arms of the Senate.
The Senate, preceded by their President and Secretary.
The other Officers of the Senate.
The President of the United States.
The Heads of Departments.
The Judges of the Supreme Court of the United States, and its Officers.
The Judges of the Courts of the District of Columbia, and their Officers
The Diplomatic Corps.
The Comptrollers, Auditors, and other Heads of Bureaus of the several Departments of the Government, with their Officers.
Officers of the Army and Navy at the seat of Government.
Members of State Legislatures.
The Corporation of Washington.
The Columbian Typographical Society.
Officers and Students of Georgetown College.
Officers and Students of Columbian College.
Literary Institutions.
Fire Companies, and other Associations and Societies of the District.
The Senate, preceded by their President and Secretary.
The other Officers of the Senate.
The President of the United States.
The Heads of Departments.
The Judges of the Supreme Court of the United States, and its Officers.
The Judges of the Courts of the District of Columbia, and their Officers
The Diplomatic Corps.
The Comptrollers, Auditors, and other Heads of Bureaus of the several Departments of the Government, with their Officers.
Officers of the Army and Navy at the seat of Government.
Members of State Legislatures.
The Corporation of Washington.
The Columbian Typographical Society.
Officers and Students of Georgetown College.
Officers and Students of Columbian College.
Literary Institutions.
Fire Companies, and other Associations and Societies of the District.
Printed Document, 42 page(s), Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum [Springfield, IL]